The Librarian

Continued from: Update your Resume

As I settled into my office chair, the familiar surroundings of the Facility enveloping me in their comforting embrace, I found myself engrossed in a conversation with Mandy. The phone pressed against my ear, I listened intently as she shared her decision regarding the receptionist position I offered her. I had such high hopes for this development. HAD...*sigh*

While I had hoped to bring her on board as a permanent fixture at the Facility, I understood the constraints of her busy life as an ER nurse and dedicated soccer mom. Her responsibilities outside of our shared passion were numerous and demanding, leaving little room for additional commitments. As Mandy expressed her regret at having to decline the offer, I assured her that I fully supported her decision. 

However, there was a silver lining to this cloud of disappointment. Mandy's desire to remain a regular client and submissive at the Facility, filled me with joy. She even hinted around a Boss/secretary scene between she and I, just to make it up to me. 

Ohhh, I think I can help her with this fantasy. 

As I wrapped up the delicate conversation, I was momentarily distracted by the arrival of Summer, my beloved wife and submissive partner. She entered the office with a grace that belied her state of undress, clad only in a maid apron, stockings and towering heels. The sight of her bare back and exposed bum sent a shiver right to my pussy. 

Summer approached me silently, bearing a steaming cup of coffee as if it were an offering to a goddess. 

With practiced ease, she sank to her knees before me, her lips brushing against the polished leather of my high heels in a gesture of reverence and devotion. 

She's always quite submissive but I could sense something was up. It didn't take long before the confession escaped her lips. 

"A week old email, you say, young lady?" I mused aloud, my voice moderated into a sense of calm authority. 

"Did I not ask you to check our inbox daily, Summer Addison? We have quality service standards at this Facility for a reason, for the sake of our clients." 

Summer's eyes remained downcast, her shoulders trembling slightly as she awaited a punishment she knew was inevitable. "I'm sorry, Ma'am," she quivered from her lips. "It actually wasn't one email Ma'am...it was eighteen of them." 

"I'm sorry, eighteen, you said?!" I hissed from my lips while cupping her chin into my hand. 

"Go and fetch the riding crop from the other room, Summer Addison, and put on your whipping outfit." 

(For caning or cropping punishments of Summer, I make her wear black shapewear that frames her two bum cheeks perfectly and covers areas too high or near her tailbone that I wouldn't want to target. Plus, the constricting garment lifts her bum more fleshy and rounded for me)

Look at those perfect little mounds! Ohhh she's in deep shit.

The act of punishing my lovely wife never failed to stir a complex array of emotions within me - the satisfaction of maintaining order and control which is what she needs and wants, tempered by the tenderness I felt towards her. When Summer returned, prepared as I had asked, she knelt and presented me with the whip. I accepted it with a nod of approval. "Good girl," I murmured, my voice laced with a mixture of sternness and affection. 

I had her stand and face the wall for a little while, to anticipate what was coming, before finally breaking the awkward silence. 

"Alright young lady, bend over the desk please, you know the drill." Summer moved to comply, her body gracefully folding over the polished surface of my desk, her predominately bare bottom presented vulnerably to my gaze.

"Eighteen strokes, I believe, will suffice to remind you of the importance of diligence in your duties," I declared, my voice steady and authoritative." Count them aloud for me, please." With that, I raised the crop, the supple leather whispering through the air as it descended to meet Summer's waiting bum. 

"One. Thank you, Ma'am, may I please have another?" 

I obliged, the crop finding its mark again and again, each stroke painting a new line across her porcelain bottom. 

"Thirteen. Thank you, Ma'am, may I please have another?" 

The final five strokes were delivered with measured precision, her bum cheeks were a canvass of crisscrossed welts, angry and red, standing out starkly against her pale skin. 

"Shhh, it's over now," I soothed, helping her to stand upright as I pulled her in for a hug. 

"You did beautifully, my love," I whispered, drawing her closer to kiss her forehead. "Now, let's see about those emails." 

With Summer now forgiven, I guided her to the chair, watching with a mixture of satisfaction and sympathy as she gingerly lowered herself onto the seat, her welted bottom making contact with the unforgiving surface. 

As she began to sift through the neglected emails, the room fell silent save for the gentle click of the mouse and the occasional rustle of fabric as Summer shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 

Minutes passed, the monotonous task of sorting through correspondence stretching on until suddenly, Summer's posture changed. She sat up straighter, her eyes widening as they scanned the screen. 

"Ma'am," she began, her voice tentative yet tinged with hopeful excitement, "there's an email here from a young woman named Skylar. She says she's a librarian, 28 years old, and she's inquiring about administrative positions at the Facility."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this timely development. 

"Is that her? Make that bigger for me, honey," I guided Summer's hand to the mouse to hover over Skylar's profile picture. 

"Oui, Madame...I guess dis is her..." Summer cheerfully chirped, while holding back a giggle. 

"Does she know what we DO here?!" 

I blurted out in partial laughter, ashamed of myself for being so judgey. 

"A librarian huh?" 

Little Skylar is actually kinda cute, probably naïve, innocent, maybe four or five cats at home? I can't bring myself corrupt this little thing...can I? 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo   

Continued in: Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

 

 

Summer Kisses

Continued from: Slumber Party

A Sarah Jane story.

Morning light crept into the room, casting a warm glow over the sprawling bed where the four of us slept the night away. I stirred first, my bum throbbing with a dull ache - remnants of last night's strapping over Daddy's knee. As I gingerly shifted onto my tummy, Summer's sleep-heavy gaze fluttered open, her concern etched on her face. Without a word, she reached out, her little hand tracing gentle circles on my sore bottom. I winced at first, but it was soon replaced with gratitude as she soothed my bare cheeks with little kisses. 

Our sleepy gazes met, and without needing any words, we both knew it was time to acknowledge the lingering tension between us. We eased closer and pulled our panties to the side. Wetness seeped from our pussies as we aligned ourselves, our legs intertwining into a scissor. 

In hushed silence, we began to move against each other, our slick folds and swollen clits clapping together in rhythmic synchrony. Moans built in the back of our throats, as our mutual arousal grew, until finally, in tandem, we both covered our mouths and shuddered through climax. 

I realized why these stolen moments with Summer were so precious - they reminded me that even amidst the turmoil of our submissive roles, there existed a deep bond between us. 

Daddy stirred awake next, followed by Mistress Andrea. He saw the mischievous guilt and flushed cheeks that enveloped our smiling faces. 

"What just happened there?" He asked rhetorically. 

Summer and I erupted into fits of laughter, her playful fingers tickling my belly. Before long, we were scrambling to dress in "little-girl" pastel swimsuits and tying our hair up in pigtails. 

"Daddy, can we please set up our kiddie pool?" Summer requested, her big blue eyes shining with an irresistible innocence. Daddy hastened to oblige, his accommodating smile betraying a glimmer of amusement. As he laboured over the inflatable pool, Summer and I bounced about in the periphery, squealing with anticipation. 

With the pool finally filled and splashing water beckoning, Summer and I climbed inside, our pigtails bobbing as we frolicked and kissed amidst the sprinkling droplets.

Daddy and Mistress eventually joined us outside, their paternal and maternal smiles creasing their faces as they sat to supervise our antics. It was almost like we had become a little family and in that moment, I felt a butterfly-churning urge to just hug Mistress Andrea, and call her "Mommy". 

As the morning wore on, our frolicking in the little pool gradually gave way to more tender displays of affection. We floated closer to one another, and with our faces inches apart, we shared a soft, exploratory kiss. The sound of lapping water and songbirds provided a serene backdrop for this intimate moment. 

Summer pulled back from the kiss, rolling my bottom lip sensually as she did while gazing into my eyes with a somber expression. "You know, baby," she murmured, "we've been through so much together, haven't we?" I nodded mutely, my pigtails bobbing in agreement. "As submissives, we've faced our share of challenges," Summer continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "But despite all of that and the roles we all play, I want you to know that I love you, Sarah. You're more than just a friend to me." 

Tears glazed over Summer's eyes as she smiled sweetly, her heart and mine, swelling with emotion. Suddenly, a flicker of melancholy crossed her face. 

"To be honest, baby, I was a little let down last night," she confessed, her voice hesitant. "At bedtime when Daddy was fucking you...you know," her voice trailed off in embarrassment. "Sometimes, sweetheart, a girl just needs the real thing. Not a strap-on from Mistress, no matter how skilled she may be." 

I nodded empathetically, my ponytails bouncing in accord. "It's okay to feel that way, Summer. If it's ok with Mistress, we can share Daddy; there's enough love to go around." I gently squeezed Summer's hand as we exchanged another tender kiss. "It seems Mistress doesn't mind sharing you with me, right?" I giggled. 

Later in the day, whether it was the boldness that only alcohol can provide or Summer just needing to get it out in the open, she paddled her little feet over to Mistress, her bottom lip jutting out in a classic tantrum pose.

"Mommy, it's just not fair!" she declared. "Sarah said Daddy could have fucked me last night too, and that she doesn't mind sharing, cuz it's me!" Summer's arms crossed like a brat as she huffed. When I looked at the expression on Mistress' face, I could tell a severe punishment was looming, and I suspected it would involve a red-hot bottom. 

"Get out of the pool young lady, go cut a switch from the big Willow! 

"Ohhh gawd," I cringed on her behalf. "That's gonna suck, on a wet bottom!" 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Weeping Willow